Changing Times

No, I'm not referring to the upcoming Daylight Savings Time change (didn't we just have one of those?), but rather the changing times at Sycamore Hollow. Things are happening, involving lots of heavy lifting. I'm cleaning out the shop, literally and metaphorically. More later on exactly what this involves, but for now, enjoy a fresh new blog from Abigail Cahill O'Brien, someone who has helped me do some of the cleaning by purchasing some key pieces at Sycamore Hollow. I'm always happy to know that the items leaving the store are going to a good home.

A Chill in the Air

I wandered around Rockport this morning running errands and experienced a distinct chill in the air. I forgot to put a sweater on my oldest son and felt like a bad mother. It seems like just the other day when I forgot to put shorts on him instead of pants and felt like a bad mother. Maybe the common element here is that I usually feel like I'm failing him, at least when it comes to listening to the weather report. Last year we grew gourds at the old Ohio homestead - here they are in all their glory.
This year the crop was not so bumper-ish. In fact, my brother, who has been faithfully tending them, reported to me that it is likely that not a single pie could be made by combining the entire crop. Needless to say, the crop from the old Ohio homestead will not be taken to market in 2009. So it's a good thing that I have my vintage furniture and handpainted pieces to fall back on. Can you hear a tinge of sarcasm? What I really wanted to feature in the photo is what the gourds are arranged on: an industrial cart painted in aqua with just the right amount of wear and tear. One of my all-time favorite pieces.

We are gearing up for our Harvest Festival here in Rockport. Put it on your calendar now folks. Plenty of homemade pies, wacky scarecrows, wacky Rockport-ers, and a cider donut or two.

Rocky Neck

I went to Rocky Neck - billed as "America's Oldest Working Art Colony" - or maybe it's just "America's Oldest Art Colony" - but no, I do think there's a qualifier in there somewhere. Anyway, the point is, Rocky Neck hosts monthly events every late Spring through early Fall, with open studios, lectures and music. Rocky Neck has a shabbiness that ranges from the slightly deranged to the genteel, but all of it is interesting. And like all places with personality, the people who live there seem to really, really love it. Reminds me of the goon docks in "The Goonies" (which I just re-watched) and I mean that as a compliment. The moon was full over the harbor that night and it was pleasant beyond words. I even bought a painting, a small study by Eugene Quinn, who is at the genteel end of the spectrum. Great work. I stood in his studio staring at his work for a long, long time like a child counting her pennies at the candy counter, trying to figure out how to make the most out of a severely limited budget. He graciously makes his studies affordable for the rest of us. I would include an image of the painting but my photography skills don't quite measure up to the necessary standard.

If you can handle my sub-standard picture-taking abilities (not quite as important for the following photo), here's an image of a Sycamore Hollow tripod lamp in its habitat. I never get tired of seeing where pieces from the shop end up. This one is in a friend's lovely summer home in Rockport. I wish I was sitting on that couch right now, reading a book (okay, maybe a newspaper. Or a magazine) by the light of that tripod lamp.